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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149810">Of Hair Ties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peevesie_Fics/pseuds/Peevesie_Fics'>Peevesie_Fics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Coco (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aunt-Niece Relationship, Family Fluff, Family Loss, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Chronological</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:53:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peevesie_Fics/pseuds/Peevesie_Fics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It's so simple yet it feels like a ritual, because Tía Victoria is here, missed all the time but here, even in things as simple as blue worn hair ties.</em>
</p><p>Just Victoria being a tía and Gloria remembering her when she's gone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tía Victoria (Coco 2017) &amp; Tía Gloria (Coco 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Hair Ties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my attempt at paying some attention to the minor characters. I just wanted to write Vico because I love her. And I noticed Victoria and Gloria have the same hairstyle and I made the most of it.</p><p>So this is a fuck-it kind of fic, the kind where you know it isn't great but you post it anyway and you don't even feel self conscious. So don't expect much.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'TÍA!' little Gloria runs in and hugs Victoria with such force she nearly knocks her off her stool.</p><p>'Cálmate,' she chides her niece, but her eyes twinkle behind her glasses.</p><p>The early sun rolls in through the window onto the worktable. The morning is nice, happy. Maybe a little too hot. 'Want some?' Victoria asks, tantalizingly holding up a can of coke she bought earlier, and chuckles when Gloria tries to grab at it with her tiny hands.</p><p>*</p><p>'I like your hair,' the customer's little boy interrupts his mother's commentary about the weather. Gloria, who had been nodding along to the woman's chatter with a perfunctory grin and tuning out most of it, is caught by surprise.</p><p>She rests her hands on the shop counter and leans down to look at the child. The winter sun makes his black hair look brown. 'Gracias,' she replies, absently touching her bun. 'My tía taught me how to do my hair.'</p><p>After they leave, she absently reaches up to touch her bun again.</p><p>*</p><p>'Are you done?' Gloria bounces on the bed impatiently, waving her little hairbrush. Her tía sighs but it's endeared rather than annoyed. Putting away her work, she joins her niece on the bed. 'Sit,' she pats the bed. 'Do you have a hair tie?'</p><p>She doesn't. 'Will I get one?'</p><p>'You don't have to.' Victoria reaches out to her bedside table and takes her own blue scrunchie. </p><p>'Do my hair like yours,' Gloria instructs, her voice rising in excitement.</p><p>'You don't have enough hair,' says Victoria, amused, but complies anyway as her niece pouts. Gloria sits completely still for what feels like hours to her, all to get her hair done like Tía Victoria. 'Done,' the latter finally announces, and Gloria runs to take a look at herself in the mirror. She inspects the tiny imitation of Tía Victoria's bun on her head.</p><p>'Do I look like you?' she asks the very pressing question, subjecting her new look for scrutiny.</p><p>'No,' says Victoria, shaking her head. 'You look like you.'</p><p>'Nooo!' Gloria whines.</p><p>'Fine. You look like me.' Victoria takes off her glasses and carefully slips them on Gloria's face for emphasis. 'You look exactly like me.'</p><p>This amuses Gloria so much she plops down on the floor in a fit of laughter. But she's careful to hold the glasses to her eyes so they don't fall off.</p><p>*</p><p>Gloria collapses on her bed after a long day. It's one of those days that go badly for no reason. Maybe it's the humidity. Maybe it's stress from the shop. She's still fairly new to being at counter duty in the shop, and she knows she isn't very good at it.</p><p>She hooks her hand into her hair tie and pulls it off, letting her hair fall free. She holds up the hair tie and inspects it. It's blue with hints of green, and it's worn. She has used it for years. It's a wonder the elastic hasn't given way yet. Her heart is heavy but not in a bad way. She's so used to that scrunchie, there's so much attached to it, she doesn't know what she would do without it.</p><p>She presses it to her nose and inhales. The scent is not exactly pleasant, but strangely comforting. It feels like the only trace of Tía Victoria's scent that still persists – but it can't be. She hasn't even touched it in years – decades, even. Maybe it's just the scent of the hair tie, and Gloria has just come to associate it with Tía Victoria, just as she has come to associate the hair tie itself with her.</p><p>Still, she's grateful the scent is there. Whether it's her tía's or not, it's a reminder of her.</p><p>*</p><p>When Gloria goes to return her tía's scrunchie later, she waves her hand and says, 'You can keep it.'</p><p>Gloria loves the hair tie so much she wears it all the time. The green-tinted blue grows on her. The familiarity of the texture is comforting.</p><p>*</p><p>They tell her she's gone. She doesn't believe them. How can Tía Victoria be just ... gone? She was fine – sick and in pain, yes, but she was talking to her, she was there. It can't be right. But at the moment, nothing is right. Mamá is quiet, for one thing. That's not right. Mamá is never quiet. The house is never this quiet.</p><p>Gloria runs from there to her room and stops dead in her tracks.</p><p>The hair tie. The one her tía gave her and said 'You can keep it.' It sits on her bedside table, unmoving, desolate. That innocent hair tie does what her parents couldn't; it convinces her that Tía Victoria is really gone and it rips out her heart. There is a gaping hole in her chest and she sits on the floor and cries till she is sure she should have run out of tears by now. Everytime she chances a glance at that hair tie, fresh tears well up in her eyes all over again.</p><p>She doesn't touch the hair tie at first. It feels sacred, even though it wasn't technically Tía Victoria's since she gave it to her. But on her funeral, Gloria does her own hair, and she ties it with that hair tie. She knows her hair is far from perfect; the bun is coming undone and does not look remotely like her tía's. But no one comments on it, not even her brothers, and she is grateful for that.</p><p>*</p><p>'Tía Victoria, look, I did my hair on my own today!' Gloria twirls, aiming to display her attempt at a Tía Victoria-esque bun. Berto snickers but she pays no heed.</p><p>Tía Victoria snorts at her antics. 'It's perfecto, niña.'</p><p>'Is it like yours?'</p><p>'It's exactly like mine.'</p><p>Gloria knows she's only humouring her because her hair is absurd, but she still flashes a victorious grin at Berto.</p><p>*</p><p>Gloria does her own hair on the first Dia de los Muertos Tía Victoria's photo is on the ofrenda with Mamá Imelda's. She is better at it now. Her bun looks almost like Tía Victoria's this time.</p><p>This is the first time Tía Victoria will see her in months. She wonders how she will compliment her hair. Mamá compliments her, too, but remarks on hair don't mean the same coming from her. Gloria misses her tía. But she forces herself to smile because Tía Victoria will see her and she has to be happy for her, and after a while, her smile is genuine. She will be here. She will be home. She will see her.</p><p>She looks in the mirror and smiles a little wistfully before leaving her room.</p><p>She occasionally feels a warmth around her all through the night that seems to follow her around, like a pat on the head or a brush against her cheek. She wonders if she's imagining it. She chooses to think she's not.</p><p>*</p><p>It's just another day. Gloria does her hair before going to the shop. It's so simple yet it feels like a ritual, because Tía Victoria is here, missed all the time but here, even in things as simple as blue hair ties.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. ^_^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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